


The Siege of Kakōgan Castle

by wyntera



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, McHanzo Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 07:48:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11286840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyntera/pseuds/wyntera
Summary: McHanzo Week Day 7 Prompt: Beach // OceanThere is nowhere on Earth Jesse would rather be.





	The Siege of Kakōgan Castle

“Hey, guys,” Jesse says, tapping with his metallic hand on the doorframe to the kitchen. When he has the occupants’ attention he continues, “I’m headed down to the beach for a spell if y’all need me.”

“In this heat?” Mei asks, incredulous. She is sitting up on the counter in a tank top and capris with her upper body leaned against the metal wall behind her, trying her best to leech the lingering coolness from the very walls. In her hand is a paper plate that she has been using to fan herself.

“Yes,” Satya concurs from her slumped position, hair piled uncharacteristically uneven on top of her head. Her voice sounds modulated with how close her face is to the rotating fan. “How can you possibly stand to go out now?”

Jesse chuckles, adjusting the beach towel under his arm. “It ain’t that bad.”

“It’s bad,” Roadhog grumbles. Jesse nearly jumps, having not realized Roadhog was even in the room. Stepping in he spots the giant of a man laid flat on his back on the tile floor on the other side of the dining table. “Too hot.”

“I’m sure they’ll have the air conditioning back up in no time,” Jesse assures them. He is met with nothing but sounds of dissent so he leaves it at that, retreating from the room. Having done his duty to inform someone where he would be--there is no way he is letting Winston or Morrison or anyone else know that might try to pull him into the repair work--he heads out for the winding dirt path down the mountain that leads to the beach.

Jesse did not always like the water. In fact, up until he stepped onto the high cliffs of Gibraltar with Gabriel Reyes at his back, Jesse had never even seen the ocean. He still clearly remembers the moment the doors of the carrier opened and that salty sea air filled his senses. He had stumbled a bit on the ramp down to the landing zone and turned and there it was. The Strait of Gibraltar on one side, the Alboran Sea on the other. The names he did not know at the time, nor did that matter. Just the overwhelming expanse of water laid out before him like the endless deserts back home, sun glittering on the waves like the heat of a mirage.

Gabe had taken him by the arm to try and move him along but Jesse jerked free, legs carrying him in long strides toward the cliff in a way that had the old soldier thinking his newest recruit was going to end it all with a flying leap. Not until he saw the awe on Jesse’s face did Gabe get it. So he let the young man stand on those cliffs and look his fill. He would never know that for Jesse, seeing the ocean, the  _ ocean,  _ so endless, so powerful, so full of life--that was the moment Jesse really let himself believe that his life really was changing for the better.

These very waters are where Jesse learned to swim. Company policy, Gabe had said when he threw Jesse a pair of navy swim trunks and a bottle of sunscreen. Down on the sand Jesse’s body gave away secrets he could more easily hide beneath his clothes; a gangly seventeen-year-old that was too thin with too many sharp edges and far too many scars for someone his age, fearful of the waves that lapped at his ankles. But Jesse McCree never met a challenge he would not throw himself bodily toward, fear or no fear. Between Gabe and the rest of his Blackwatch family he learned to swim.

Not only did he learn, he flourished.

Jesse took to the water like he was born for it, surprising everyone involved. Once he got the mechanics down they could hardly keep him out of the water. On his off-time Jesse would almost always find time to go for a swim, and not just the playful splashing and wading most of the other agents did for fun. No, Jesse wanted to make distance. He wanted to push himself. He wanted to be out beyond the breaking waves. Just him and endless water around and below. Gabe thought for sure the boy would get gobbled up by a shark.

After Overwatch fell Jesse went through long spans of time without seeing the water. Staying in hotels that had pools was a luxury he avoided half the time, but on more than one occasion he slipped into closed gyms or country clubs at night to do laps. The sting of chlorine in his nostrils was a poor substitute for the natural scent of the sea. The times his travels took him close to the ocean he revelled in it, spending more hours than is safe in sometimes too-cold water trying to squeeze every moment he could out of the chances he had.

At the time of the recall, Jesse had not seen the ocean in a year and a half. Stepping off the carrier, down an arm and battle-worn, all it took was one look out at the unchanged sea and it was as if the last two decades fell from his shoulders.

He has made it a point to go down to the water as often as is feasible, what with their busy schedules of missions and training. The others know that they are welcome to accompany him at any time but most do not bother; Jesse is going to go out further than the rest of them dare, and be out longer than any sensible man should.

There is a break in the cliff face that is only accessible by a path from the Watchpoint. In this little cove is a sandy beach surrounded by rocks that acts as Overwatch’s own little private getaway spot. There are a few worn boulders that jut up from the sand at the water’s edge and the surf is turbulent to the left side thanks to the waves coming in from the Strait. Jesse loves it; the beach is one of his most favorite places on Earth.

As soon as the dirt and rock path gives way to sand he is kicking off his flip-flops. He stores his towel and extra sunscreen safely near a rock so the wind will not blow them away, then grips the bottom of his baggy tank top.

The shirt is only drawn about half-way up when he hears it.

“What are you doing, you silly sausage?”

Jesse stops in his tracks, yanking the shirt back down. He has been called a lot of things in his life but never a silly sausage.

“No, quit chewing on that! Give me--no, no, give me that! What am I going to do with you?”

That is Hanzo’s voice. Hanzo, speaking sweet and endearing and a little exasperated on the other side of the boulders.

“Look! Look at what you did. Full of holes. How are we supposed to make the forward towers now? The castle is going to be vulnerable, and the villagers are going to blame you, you know that?”

A chittering noise answers him and Hanzo giggles, honestly giggles, and Jesse has got to see this. Calling upon every ounce of his stealth training and thankful he is not wearing his spurs, Jesse eases through the sand toward the boulder in question. It is twice as tall as Jesse and provides ample cover for Hanzo on the other side; no wonder he chose to be over here out of sight. Carefully, Jesse leans so he can peek around the side.

He is not prepared for what he sees.

Shimada Hanzo, heir to the Shimada Empire, former oyabun, an expert assassin, a deadly ninja, one of the top snipers in the world, wielder of ancient spirit dragons that he controls with but the force of his will, is building a sandcastle. Or, more accurately, a sandcastle on a sand estate with a sand village protected by a sand wall. There are colorful plastic molds in bright primary colors scattered around him and a bucket with a lime green shovel sticking out of the top. He is currently inspecting a neon yellow mold shaped like a tall pointed tower sporting puncture holes on two sides. Soba, one of his dragons in its smallest and cutest form, looks unrepentant.

“I cannot finish the castle with this,” Hanzo is saying, tossing the broken plastic to the side and picking up another. This one is not as tall but has an exaggerated scallop decoration along the top rim. “What do you think? This one?”

Soba rumbles and clicks his sharp snout, which must have meant agreement because Hanzo gets to work filling this mold with sand. Across the village from them Udon wiggles his way into a hole and begins to dig furiously, sand flinging back behind him in a wide arc away from their work area. He must be working on the moat.

“Here, do you want to help?” Jesse brings his attention back to Hanzo, who is holding the now-filled mold over the wall. “Where should we put it?”

The dragon jumps forward and back, bouncing in one spot before crawling up into Hanzo’s lap to watch. Hanzo does as instructed, turning the mold over and pushing it firmly into place before taking care to pull the plastic free. The sand cracked a little on one side but overall the tower holds its shape. “There!” Hanzo says, beginning to fill it again. He laughs as Soba keeps trying to stick his claws into the bucket, being more of a hinderance than a help. “Soba--Soba! You funny noodle, stop or we will never get this done!” He scoops his hand under Soba’s lanky body and sets him aside. “Just a little more and you can play.”

Sulky, Soba starts to pad over to the already chewed-on plastic mold. That is when he spots the intruder.

Jesse is not sure how to describe the noise Soba makes when he sees the cowboy, just that it is loud, unnatural, and a lot like the transmission grinding on a tractor. Udon’s head pops up from his trench and he hisses louder than a cougar. Neither of them startle quite as bad as Hanzo, who lets loose the most adorable squeak Jesse has ever heard. Hanzo’s head whips around fast enough for his neck to hurt and the look of wide-eyed horror at being caught is damn-near priceless. There is a mad scramble with his arms like Hanzo might somehow hide the ten square feet or so of sandcastle and all the plastic toys around him. Jesse would almost feel bad if this was not the cutest scene he has ever seen in his entire life.

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s just me,” Jesse says, emerging from the edge of the rocks and coming fully into view.

Udon looks not the least bit comforted by this, hopping forward and snapping at Jesse’s ankles from a few feet away before darting around, agitated. His sibling bounds back into Hanzo’s lap to peek out from around his master’s arm. Hanzo just looks shocked. “How long were you there?” he asks, voice filled with dread.

“Ah,” Jesse grins. “I came in around ‘silly sausage.’”

Hanzo grimaces and hides his face in his hands, heedless of the sand on his palms. “Just kill me now,” he whines, drawing a laugh from Jesse. “Kill me now and throw my body in the surf.”

“Naw, none of that,” Jesse says. He ambles up to get a better look at the sandcastle and Hanzo drops his hands, huffing in embarrassment. Jesse is sure that if Hanzo could he’d be breathing smoke and fire. “Right nice little setup you got here.”

Getting to his feet, Hanzo moves to gather up the bag and towel he brought with him, embarrassment shifting to anger and shame. It is only then that Jesse realizes that Hanzo is legitimately upset. That cannot stand. “Hey, I didn’t mean--whoa now!” Jesse darts out an arm and wraps it around Hanzo’s waist as he tries to stomp by, twirling him gently back the other direction. “Hold up, Hanzo!”

“What?” Hanzo demands, face more red from humiliation than the sun. “Whatever teasing you have to say, get it out now, McCree.”

“I ain’t teasin’ you. Or, I ain’t teasin’ you much,” Jesse allows, letting Hanzo go. The other man puts a little distance between them, but not much. “It can be our little secret. Ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of, spending time with your dragons.”

Hanzo glares at Jesse with a critical eye. “You will not tell the others?”

“Won’t tell a soul.”

There is a long pause while Hanzo considers this, arms crossed in front of his chest defensively. He finally relents. “Generations ago, the dragons rained terror down on the villages of Japan that did not bow to the might of the Shimada clan,” he says. Hanzo looks down at the dragons in their current form, small and swift with their anger in control. “Doing so today would be most inconvenient. They understand, but sometimes like to...relive their old exploits.”

Jesse blinks. Not what he expected. “Well, I’m glad they’re amiable to reenactments,” he says. “Otherwise Overwatch’d be drownin’ in paperwork.”

A beat, then Hanzo barks a laugh. He waves an arm back at his construction project. “The Siege of  Kakōgan Castle. Soba, Udon, and Egg razed the village, only sparing the innocents gathered in the poppy fields.”

Letting out a low whistle, Jesse steps up next to Hanzo to look the village over more closely. “Is this really what it looked like?”

“Well…” Hanzo hedges. “With less seashells. And the moat was actually a river, but I took creative license.”

“It does look a bit wrong without it,” Jesse says. He steps over and picks up the bucket. “Best fill it up, then.”

“What?” Hanzo drops his arms and watches as Jesse pads his way across the sand to the water, bucket in hand. “You do not have to indulge them in this.”

“Why not? That’s the point of sandcastles, ain’t it? Pretending? Tell your dragons they better get back to diggin’ or we won’t have a moat to fill!”

Jesse glances back in time to catch Hanzo’s shocked face. Twice in one day, well worth the trip down to the beach. Finally Hanzo snaps to it and waves at Soba and Udon. “You heard him; if we hurry we can get it dug out before he gets back.”

Between the two humans and the two dragons the moat is excavated and filled with water. Once that task is complete Soba brings Hanzo a few big seashells to add, “For decoration,” Hanzo chuckles as he puts them along the main castle ramparts. Jesse helps him to his feet once he is finished and they step back out of the way. Hanzo settles his hands on his hips and announces, “It is done,” in a grave voice. “And now, for their transgressions, the city of Kakōgan must pay the price to the Shimada dragons!”

With theatrical roars the two dragons scamper forward, crashing into the outer wall with a fury. Snapping their jaws and swiping with their tails, they make quick work demolishing the main castle before laying waste to the other big buildings. Udon seems to be more of a leaper, jumping up and down from mound to mound of sand, his claws skittering in the grains. Meanwhile Soba prefers running full-tilt around and around, using his bulk like a battering ram while his tail sweeps angrily behind him.

The sight is so ridiculous that Jesse cannot help but laugh full and loud. He glances over to find Hanzo does not take offense, his own deep chuckles mixing with Jesse’s own. For as long as it probably took for Hanzo to construct the tiny town, the dragons obliterate it in a matter of minutes. Only once the entire thing is reduced to lumpy mounds of sand does Hanzo cheer, Jesse quick to play along. The dragons run and bound in merriment at their conquering.

“Got to admit, Hanzo,” Jesse says as the two spirits begin to roughhouse, a blue tangle in the rough circle of the moat. “I’ve seen a lot in my life but that might have been the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. Cutest, too.”

“They are timeless, and have no shame,” Hanzo admits, dusting his palms against his thighs to remove the sand. Jesse tries not to stare, just now really acknowledging how short Hanzo’s swimsuit is, how much thigh is exposed. It was easy to miss earlier but not so much when Hanzo’s hands draw attention to it. “It is not often that I have the time to come down here and indulge them, but the weather today was too perfect to pass up.”

“I’m glad I got the chance to help.” Speaking of the perfect weather, Jesse turns his attention out to the water. The waves are calmer than when he first came down, even more suited for swimming. “You goin’ to be out here a while?”

“Ah...no,” Hanzo says, the playfulness fading back to the cautious distance he sometimes wants after he reveals too much. “No, I am just going to clean up.”

“Oh. Okay.” Jesse does not move immediately, leaning on one leg but holding the momentum. Potential energy. “You’re welcome to join me, if you want.”

Hanzo glances from Jesse to the ocean then back to the plastic toys. He kneels to begin gathering them into the black duffel. “Thank you, but no. Do not let me keep you.”

“If you’re sure.”

Having run out of things to say, Jesse decides to leave the archer be. Tugging his shirt over his head and ignoring the swoop of self-consciousness in his chest--he has never been nor will he ever be as cut or fit as Shimada Hanzo--he heads for the waves.

He turns back once, when the water is up to his knees. Hanzo is still kneeling on the sand slowly gathering up his things to leave, but Jesse catches him watching. “Water sure feels fine, if you change your mind!” he calls back, arms spread. The distance might be too far for his words to carry, and Hanzo does not respond either way. Jesse fights the twist of disappointment in his bones as he leaves Hanzo behind.

When the waves come up to his ribs he kicks off the bottom and begins a freestyle front crawl. Smooth motions, eyes even with the water on each breath and closed as his head dips below the surface, reaching forward with his arms like he might pull himself toward the horizon. He rides over the waves as they carry him up and down, pushing forward, forward, until the water no longer turns white and he is out beyond the crests. Normally he would keep going but for some reason today he pauses there to look back to shore.

Gibraltar always looms large over the surrounding ocean but it does not seem quite so big from this distance, even the great mountain dwarfed by the sea. The beach at its base is a thin strip. Jesse can still see Hanzo on the sand though he is hard to see clearly at this distance. He is standing now, watching the water, maybe trying to track Jesse’s progress. Testing that theory Jesse holds up an arm as high as he can and waves it. An answering wave can be seen from the tiny Hanzo. Motes of blue dart around his shoulders.

Jesse bobs with the water for a bit, the sounds of the open ocean muted and white-noise compared to the crashing of the waves back on shore. The sound always made Jesse feel safe and cocooned despite its association with endless openness. Sometimes when Jesse has trouble sleeping he will search for a sound file of the ocean in the hopes of replicating it. Nothing ever sounds quite right, though.

He gets lulled into a bit of a haze, watching the undulating water around him and the clouds in the sky, an indeterminate amount of time passing him by. When he finally thinks to look back to Gibraltar, he finds Hanzo is no longer on the beach. Rather than disappearing completely, though, he seems to be making his way closer.

Kicking his feet harder to get some height, Jesse spots Hanzo fighting his way out toward him in the roughest waves right as they peak. There is a look of concentration on his face that Jesse can read from any distance. He keeps losing sight of Hanzo with how high the crests and low the dips are, but every time he appears in Jesse’s sights Hanzo is a little closer.

“Well, howdy there,” Jesse grins when Hanzo finally makes it within range to speak. The archer’s chin is in the water and he swims in quick jerky strokes that indicate a less experienced swimmer. “Fancy meeting you out here.”

“Hello,” Hanzo pants, arms working double-time. Jesse can guess that his legs are kicking like mad beneath the surface. “I did not realize...that you swam...this far out. Jesse?” An arm strikes out toward Jesse, beseeching.

The thread of panic in Hanzo’s voice spurs Jesse into action and he grabs Hanzo’s hand with his own. “Whoa, there, whoa, I got you,” Jesse says, reeling Hanzo in. “Just hang on to me, I’ll keep you up.”

Just that added stability is enough to help Hanzo calm. He grips Jesse’s arm, then his shoulder, the setting and circumstances driving away any embarrassment he might feel. Hanzo is just barely shaking, though Jesse is not sure if it is from exertion or fear. Either way he uses the arm Hanzo holds to draw him close, wraps it around Hanzo’s waist to make him feel safer.

“Thank you,” Hanzo finally sighs. “For a moment, I thought--”

“Ain’t gonna drown on my watch, honeybee,” Jesse chuckles. He nearly reaches up with his free hand to push Hanzo’s hair out of his face where it hangs in a tangled mess. Luckily he needs his free hand to keep them stable in the water, saving him from that awkward slip.

Hanzo grows annoyed with the lack of sight anyway and shoves his hair back out of his face. “The dragons would have saved me,” he insists. Then he moves his head all the way back and Jesse’s mind loses focus on anything except the expanse of Hanzo’s skin from his chest all the way up to his throat. Hanzo arches to dip his hair into the water then rises back up, all that black hair now slicked and smooth against his head. Jesse briefly wonders if he just fell into the hottest shampoo commercial that ever existed. “Forgive me,” he says, taking a deep breath. “I am not accustomed to swimming this far from the shore.”

“No problem at all. I’m glad you came out, though. There ain’t a soul in Overwatch that will swim with me nowadays. And it’s a shame none of y’all ever get to see the view.”

“The view?” Hanzo asks, brows creased in confusion.

Jesse nods over Hanzo’s shoulder, but rather than have the man twist Jesse just rotates them in the water so Hanzo can see. “The view.”

They are pressed close enough that Jesse can feel the sharp gasp that Hanzo takes when he looks back at Gibraltar. Jesse grins and watches the archer, mouth agape, eyes luminous. “Oh my…” Hanzo murmurs, lost in the sight.

“Ain’t that somethin’?” Jesse asks.

Hanzo’s grip on Jesse tightens just a touch as Hanzo lets out a shaky laugh. “Everything looks so small from here.” Then, he corrects, “We feel so small out here.”

“Humbling,” Jesse adds, and Hanzo nods in agreement.

“I have seen views like this from the safety of boats and aircraft,” Hanzo says. “It feels nothing like this.”

“Worth the swim?”

Hanzo brings himself around to be better facing Jesse, his other hand gripping the curve where Jesse’s neck meets shoulder. “Well worth it,” Hanzo says. The warmth of it makes Jesse’s throat dry. “Next time I will be better prepared.”

Well that is interesting. “Next time, huh?”

“You cannot keep such a view to yourself,” Hanzo replies.

Jesse realizes that Hanzo might be teasing him. “And are you goin’ to cling to me every time?”

The sudden tension in Hanzo’s body makes Jesse want to shove his own foot in his mouth; he knows better than to imply in any way that Hanzo is somehow lesser or weak, even for a joke. He expects Hanzo to yank away and swim for shore, but the hard line of his body relaxes again. In fact he huffs, self-deprecating. “Perhaps,” he admits. Then he settles more weight onto Jesse. “You are rather comfortable.”

“Well, I can handle that. You’re no hardship to hold.” Jesse can feel his face heat up as he realizes what he said and he looks away, laughing. Still, he does not take the words back. “Where are the dragons, anyway? Back in your tattoo?”

“No, they are...somewhere around here,” Hanzo says, head twisting to look around them. Jesse does the same, bemused. “Oh, there is Udon.”

Jesse turns and nearly goes under in surprise. Gliding by just under the water is Udon, but not the small noodle dragons from on the beach. He is as big as a whale, his long snake-like body rippling through the water like a ribbon. His iridescent scales light up aqua and cyan and cast an eerie glow bright enough for Jesse to see his and Hanzo’s legs beneath the dark water. In the distance Jesse spots Soba breaching repeatedly, arches of a serpent’s body that leave waves in their wake.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Jesse says, turning in the water to watch Udon swim by. “I ain’t never seen them this close when they’re big.”

Hanzo laughs softly. “They are fond of you,” he says.

“I’m fond of them, too. They’ve saved my bacon enough times--”

“I am fond of you, too.”

The simple admission tugs tight at Jesse’s heart and he looks up at Hanzo in surprise. Water drips from Hanzo’s hair down into his face and for a moment Hanzo looks like he wants to bite the words back. But with a nervous swallow he meets Jesse’s gaze with one of his own. Brave. “I told myself,” he says, trembling, “that if I could swim out here, I could...then I could say that. I would have no more excuses.” Hanzo licks the water from his lips. “Please do not drop me if that is not what you wanted to hear.”

Words do not come for a long moment, one in which Hanzo visibly grows nervous creeping toward humiliated. Then Jesse shakes his head, slow, and a gentle smile finally forms. “No,” he says, bringing his other hand down and pulling Hanzo more steady against him. “No need for that. In fact, that might be the best thing I’ve heard in a long while.”

Hanzo stares at Jesse’s face as if trying to ascertain if what he says is truthful. He must like what he sees because he breaks out into a shy grin. “Really?”

“Hanzo,” Jesse chastises, squeezing with his hands. “You’ve got to know I’m crazy about you.”

Laughing freely, Hanzo links his hands around Jesse’s neck. Under the water their legs have been grazing each other the whole while, unavoidable, but now Hanzo’s prosthetics wrap around Jesse’s waist. It only makes sense that Jesse’s hands drop around the appendages and he lifts Hanzo higher, leaving them tangled up and happy for it. “I did not know,” Hanzo states. “You are hard to read.”

“Naw, I’m an open book,” Jesse teases. A lie, but, well. Hanzo knows how it is. “You’re the one sendin’ out all those mixed signals.”

“I do not! You do!” Hanzo complains. “You could have stayed closer to shore to make this easier on me, but no, you made me chase you all the way out here--”

“If you would’ve said yes in the first place I’d have helped you swim out here,” Jesse counters. Then his grin turns sly. “Chase me, huh?”

For lack of a better response Hanzo splashes him, making Jesse sputter. The amusement on Hanzo’s face is worth a mouthful of seawater. Jesse shakes the hair out of his eyes and levels the archer with a look. “I’m going to get you back for that one, darlin’, as soon as we get in the shallows, mark my words.”

“What if I can convince you otherwise?” Hanzo asks.

Their noses are just inches apart. “How you goin’ to do that, sug?”

“I have a few ideas.”

Hanzo’s lips are cold to the touch. Jesse is sure his own are no better. The saltwater makes it not the best kiss but the heat of Hanzo’s mouth, the desperate little noise he makes when Jesse’s tongue pushes inside, the way his thighs tighten around Jesse’s middle more than make up for the taste. They pull apart with a soft wet sound that gets lost in the splashing of water against their bodies.

“Convinced?” Hanzo asks, fingers scratching lightly at Jesse’s beard.

“I dunno, sweetheart,” Jesse drawls, sliding a hand up Hanzo’s back and spreading his fingers against his skin. “Better tell me again so I’m sure.”

Jesse groans as Hanzo practically attacks him, the floodgates opened. Hanzo climbs him like a tree, something that might have been possible back on solid ground but would probably be hell on Jesse’s back. He would thank the ocean personally if his mouth was not so thorougly occupied. Not to mention the hands. Hanzo’s hands are driving Jesse mad, everywhere at once, and since Jesse is keeping Hanzo afloat all he can do is hold on and take it. By the time Hanzo lets him go Jesse’s hair is a mess, his lips feel a little sore, and he is more breathless than when he initially swam out here.

“Yeah,” Jesse says, panting. “That’d do it.”

Hanzo chuckles low in his throat, mouth moving to nibble at Jesse’s ear. “We could have done this back on the beach,” he tacks on, unwilling to let that one go.

“Still can when we get back.” He has to bite his lip when Hanzo starts to suck below his earlobe on sensitive skin. “You want to go?”

“No,” Hanzo says. “Not yet.” A dull drag of teeth that leaves Jesse shivering, then Hanzo pulls back with a confused look. “How are you swimming without your arms?”

Jesse smirks. “Oh, that. There’s a sandbar below us. I’m up on my tiptoes. Guess you can only feel it if you’re on the tall side--ACK!”

Hanzo throws all his weight onto Jesse’s shoulders and shoves him down, dunking him under the water. When Jesse comes up he is already laughing through his gasps for air. “Aww, come on, darlin’! You know you’re cute as a button just the size you are!”

When Hanzo tries to turn and swim off Jesse grabs him around the waist and lifts him up. “Let go, you brute!” Hanzo shouts, laughing and flailing his legs. It is no use with Jesse’s strong arms around him, but he puts up a good show of it until Jesse hauls him back around. He presses a kiss to Hanzo’s cheek, then his lips, slow and intimate in apology. Hanzo allows the attention but murmurs, “I am not cute as a--a  _ button _ .” He sounds scandalized by the thought.

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree on that one,” Jesse replies. The words get a low grumble but Hanzo settles against him once again. This time feels like for good. “I’m glad you came out here, though.”

“As am I,” Hanzo murmurs, resting his temple against Jesse’s collarbone. He sounds worn out. Not surprising, being unused to distance swimming as he is. Chances are they will both sleep soundly tonight. Jesse wonders if he could convince Hanzo that they could spend the night in one bed. He is pretty sure he can keep things innocent if that is what Hanzo wants, and if not, well, then that sound sleep would be as good as guaranteed.

Those are questions for the shore. For now, Jesse presses his nose to Hanzo’s wet hair. Even with the ocean all around them he can still smell the scent of lilac. “Tired?” he asks. “Should we go back?”

“Just a little longer.” Hanzo turns those gorgeous brown eyes up to Jesse and in that moment he knows, knows in his bones, that the ocean has given him one more precious memory to hold close to his heart. And Hanzo’s next words feel like they were drawn from Jesse’s lungs. “I do not want to forget this.”

Jesse nods, silent, and holds Hanzo tight. Around them the dragons cut a circle under the waves. The sun slips lower in the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like that and want more, want to check out my art, or just want to chat, come on by my tumblr! You can find me under username wyntera. And if twitter is more your game, come and join me there, just look for @ThreeCatDesigns.
> 
> And hey. Thanks.


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